


Everything Changes

by JudCute



Category: Degrassi, Degrassi: Next Class
Genre: Character Study, Frankie-Esme aren't platonic in this fic they in love that's basically canon, Gen, Non Graphic, School Shootings, Wait that's an actual tag, author knows nothing about guns, happens like six months after show ended, in which I basically hurt Frankie to make Miles/Esme talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-01-17 08:43:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12361923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudCute/pseuds/JudCute
Summary: Of course something would go wrong, of course the people he loved wouldn’t be save for long. Him and Winston, actually everyone who he knew that went to Degrassi, would joke the school was cursed. No school could go through so many horrifying things and survive it. Miles believed for a small second, that the second he left for London, he would be free of all the crap Degrassi caused. He almost forgot Frankie and Hunter were still there.**After a tragedy at Degrassi happens in which Frankie gets hurt, Miles' leaves London behind to see her again, figure out what exactly happens that day and deal with Frankie's new best friend  and his ex, Esme Song.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... to start English is my second language so this is probably a mess. My apologies already. Second off, I'm not proud for using Frankie as a plot device and the whole plot actually but I had the plot bunny and really love Esme-Miles-Frankie dynamic so yeah this happened. I do have written some more but not sure if I'll post that or if this is good at all, but hey what do I have to lose with posting it. I hope you enjoy it!

After it had happened, Miles' mom had called him at least 30 times. He didn’t answer; his phone was off. It was late that night, way too late to still be writing, but he had to finish this story or he would be screwed. He was six months into the school year and the only way he could describe it was different, but the good kind of different. He even got used to looking left when crossing the street. The only thing that was truly difficult about his new school were the writer's blocks. The annoyance of being completely stuck on a story, not knowing how to go on or worse, knowing what was going to happen next but not being able to put it in words. He did learn some things on how to deal with it though. One method to get at least something down on paper was locking himself in his small room with everything distracting turned off, only music on.  
Miles was finally getting somewhere when he felt a tiny stress ball being thrown against his head, thrown by no one else than his lovely roommate. Her name was Laura. Miles tried living on his own for a while, but he found himself lonely. The Hollingsworth mansion always had something going on and was never silent, being all alone only made him more homesick. He loved it in London, but a small part of him longed to go home. When Laura got in a fight with her girlfriend and needed a less awkward place to sleep, he offered to share his room. Sadly, she was sometimes a bit of a pain in the ass. And an insomniac, which means she was awake at the same unholy hours as he was most of the time. She reminded him of Zoë, which was probably why he was so fond of her.  
‘Ow, what’s your problem! I’m working here,’ he said, annoyed.  
‘It’s not my fault you haven’t finished this assignment yet while the deadline is tomorrow. You're the lazy one.’  
‘Did you only hit me to shame me for my writer's block?’  
‘No, although you know how much I love shaming you. Your family lives in Toronto, right?’  
‘Yeah, why?’  
‘Well, then I would call them right now because some shit went down there.’  
‘Wait, what? Did something happen?’  
‘I was scrolling through my news app and apparently some white boy with a gun happened.’  
Miles felt all color leave his face. He could recall all the times he felt like the world would fall apart. He felt it when Frankie was in the building he lit on fire, when he thought Esme hurt herself after breaking up with him, when he couldn’t find the gun after Hunter's freak out, when the Degrassi bus crashed with Tristan in it. And now this. Hunter-Hunter-Hunter, he was foolish to think he could leave Hunter alone, Hunter wasn’t stable enough and needed him. He was selfish and stupid and could have seen this coming.  
‘Where did it happen, which high school?’ he asked with panic in his voice. Maybe this was one big misunderstanding, maybe Hunter didn’t -  
‘The article says it was at Degrassi? Four people got shot. Two girls, one boy and the shooter. The guy shot himself, good for him. The asshole, who does something like that? Miles, you okay? Oh shit, was that your… I’m sorry.’  
He was going to puke, he was going to puke and scream and curse and make a scene, but there was no time for that. He jumped up and ran to his phone, which laid peacefully on the table beside his bed. He couldn’t stay still while his phone turned on, he felt his legs shaking. Actually, the shaking wasn’t only in his legs, his whole body was in shock. If it was the fear or adrenaline, he wasn’t sure. Just when he thought he couldn’t feel worse, he saw the missed calls from his mom. She called him so many times… something terrible happened. His fingers were shaking when he returned the call.  
‘Miles! Finally, you answered! I was almost getting worried,’ his mom answered. He could hear through the phone that she had been crying.  
‘I heard about the shooting. Was it… did Hunter?’  
‘No, no, it wasn’t Hunter. It wasn’t Hunter. Hunter didn’t shoot anyone. He is alive, he made it out alive.’  
Miles didn’t know he was holding his breath until he let it out. He felt relieved, but then it hit him. If Hunter wasn’t the shooter, why did his mom try to call him so many times, why did she sound like she has been crying? The heaviness in his stomach returned, but now it was different. It wasn’t filled with fear, but with dread. Two girls got shot.  
‘Frankie…. What happened to Frankie, is she save? Tell me she is safe?’  
His mom's answer was enough, because he didn’t get any. He got sobbing in return. On that point the stress got too much, he couldn't feel his legs anymore and fell on the bed.  
‘Is she…’  
‘They brought her in an hour ago, in critical condition. Your dad is here too. She’s in surgery. I haven’t got an update in hours and… the doctors say they don’t know what happens next.’  
That moment Miles made his decision. Whatever was going on with Frankie, she was going to need him. Or otherwise his mom needed him. Or even Hunter, who almost lost his twin. School be dammed.  
‘I’m coming home… I’ll grab some stuff and go straight to the airport and book the first flight I see’  
‘Miles… You have exams going on and you being here won’t fix anything. Stay, we’ll keep you updated.’  
‘No, I won’t accept that. You all need me there; I need to be there or I will lose it. I need to see her, I need to see you!’  
Miles could hear his mom's heavy breathing.  
‘Fine. See you soon and… tell me how your flight goes.’

**  
It’s not like he expected anything else, but it was nice to know everything looked exactly the same when Miles came home. His mom finally let go of her redecorating phase and it was comforting. His original plan was to go straight to the hospital when he came home, but his mom disagreed. It would be too late when he arrived, she would bring him home and they would visit Frankie in the morning. Because apparently, getting into a last minute flight to Toronto seemed more difficult then he anticipated. At the end his dad was the one who send the Hollingsworth private jet, which took already like seven hours to get to London in the first place. All those time he was stuck in London, making calls, trying to explain his situation and getting out of all his responsibilities. The only thing that made everything bearable was the call that Frankie was doing okay, the sugary went as it was supposed to go. The doctors’ advice was rest, a lot of rest. And besides that, Frankie was on painkilling medication. She got shot twice. The doctors said Frankie was really lucky, according to his mom, and it almost made Miles laugh. He had heard that before and it was the biggest bullshit he’d ever heard. Survivors weren’t lucky, if you are lucky it wouldn’t have happened to you in the first place. But it did, someone took a shot at his baby sister and he wasn’t there to protect her. When he was younger he dreamed of leaving his house for college, going somewhere far away from his father and mother and everything. He didn’t think he would ever miss his siblings, but they were honestly the only thing he missed. The first week they called every night, but after a few months all three of them were very busy. Right now he had no idea what was going on in their lives. What leaded to this ‘white guy with a gun’. Miles tried to remember all things he knew. He knew Hunter wasn’t on the best terms with his old friend group, he knew that every time he brought it up Hunter started avoiding the subject. He knew Frankie was working very hard. She even told him she was considering trying to get into Harvard, which made Miles laugh until he realized she wasn’t kidding. Frankie never seemed so motivated in school, but she had the Hollingsworth stubbornness and obsessiveness. Apparently now she had this on her mind, and when she had something one her mind she wouldn’t give on. Most Frankie’s stories were about her being very involved into the student council. There was one time she mentioned a boy that was bothering her, but it was one small thing. Not something that could lead to her almost getting killed. Miles brain was a one-way-track, the only thing he focused on was Frankie. But the more time went by, the more he realized that something big happened. That he wasn’t the only victim. That someone, a kid, on his high school deliberately tried to kill people, that hundreds of teenagers were in danger. And he realized he had no idea what exactly happened, he barely even had patience to read the news with Frankie as his number one priority. The weird thing was, whenever he tried to picture the boy who did this too his sister, he saw Hunter. He knew it wasn’t Hunter and that Hunter would never hurt Frankie, but the picture in his head was there and wouldn’t leave him alone. If he hadn’t called that night, this whole scenario would happen two years again and he would be ‘the brother of the guy who killed people.’ A part of him wanted the boys to stay a faceless monster, but a part of him had some morbid curiosity going on and wanted to know about him. Maybe it was the writer in him, seeing the story behind a tragedy. His mom hugged him at the airport for what felt like hours. She looked like a mess and Miles couldn’t blame her. The car ride was tense, quiet and the traffic wasn’t really into their favor tonight.  
‘How’s Hunter?’ Miles asked when the silence became too much.  
‘He’s… in shock. Hasn’t said anything after we got him out of the school.’  
‘Did he… see anything? Got threatened too?’  
‘No… I forgot… I haven’t told you what happened yet. Hunter… Hunter was found by the shooters dead body. Crying.’  
‘Oh…’  
‘He was mumbling something about how he shot himself right in front of him until he… shut down.’  
‘Oh Jesus… that’s heavy…’  
‘They checked the gun if his fingerprints were on in case he was lying and shot the boy himself, but no, for so far the police knows he spoke the truth. He’s been staring at the tv in silence the whole day, gaming a little bit. It’s probably just the shock. I’m hoping it wears off soon and he won’t have to… you know… I have scheduled an appointment with his therapist tomorrow.’  
‘Is he still awake?’  
‘No, he went to his room without saying anything right before I left to pick you up.’

Now he was back in his old living room and no matter what: it still felt like home. And yet everything felt fake, being here felt fake, this whole situation felt fake, like Frankie’s life wasn’t as risk a few hours ago. He knew that his bedroom was ready and he could dive into his bed without any trouble. He knew it was ready the entire time. Maybe his mom didn’t have the heart to change it, or maybe she just expected him to fail. That he would come back because of Frankie, neither really expected. But then he noticed something did change. Something so small, something anyone else would have missed. The first thing he noticed was a small pink lighter, with ballet shoes on it, laying in the kitchen. The second was a bottle of deodorant. The third thing was a pink pen, hidden between some forgotten schoolbooks. The fourth was a cheap paperback edition of book on the table in the living room, one which had notes written inside it. Esme… the room was spread with small pieces of Esme. She was everywhere in this room. With each little thing he saw, he felt himself get sucked in the past. He remembered Esme always wanted to use her own lighter and Miles laughing at it when he saw how girly and ‘Esme’ it was. He could almost feel again how it felt being so close to her, that he could only smell her. He could remember her fidgeting with that exact pink pen all the time, like she was nervous about something. When he knew pretty well Esme was never nervous, she was always in control. He could remember them arguing multiple times about the ethics of writing down in books. Esme was there for him in the worst time of his life, a part she drove him too. It was so easy to hate Esme, so easy to blame everything on her. Last year, whatever flame there was, whatever curse there was had drove them together, disappeared. The only thing left was hate and blame. Last year, the only thing they were good at was hurting each other. And then that especially torturous way only someone who knew you well could do. That didn’t change the fact that Miles couldn’t help listening closely to ever rumor he heard. It didn’t change that when Esme stopped coming to class, he noticed. Maybe a small part of him did sting when he tried to comfort Frankie, getting her to join the seniors party instead of crying in her room because Esme’s meltdown. Maybe a small part wasn’t angry finding little stuff from her in his house, knowing she wasn’t alone after he left. But that was only a very small part. The biggest part was wary. Esme couldn’t get better, no matter how much he hoped that after her fake suicide attempt. For him, she would always stay a trigger, a bad influence, refusing to change, too suborn to believe in getting better. When Frankie and Esme started hanging out, Miles trusted Frankie’s judgement enough that she would soon enough realize herself what kind of mess Esme was. She wasn’t a child anymore and if she wanted to hang around with crazy Esme, it was her decision. It was a lesson she had to learn on her own He did keep a close eye to them, even searched both of the girls bags a few times when they weren’t looking. It was something he wasn’t proud of, but he had to know if Esme wasn’t repeating what she did to him to her sister. The moment that Esme gone too far came later then he expected and he did felt guilty, like he should have warned her better, when Frankie explained what happened in the woods. He believed that after that they would be done, but judging with the all the Esme in this house he was wrong. At this moment however, he had bigger problems then Esme. He barely slept in the plane, searching information about shot wounds all flight and was honestly exhausted. This day had to be over. He would return to his old room, in his old bed, like the past six months never happened, while nothing was less true then that statement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Miles' is a big idiot, mores get revealed about the shooting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I actually updated it, go me. Thank you Mary (@msmudkipz on twitter and ninejs here). Now with actual readable spacing.

She looked different, both of them did. Frankie looked ghastly, more dead than alive but luckily still breathing. The whole upper half of her body was bandaged and she was attached to all kind of machines. It made him think of Tristan, but he pushed that thought far away. What happened to Tristan went away and so would this. Eventually.  
Esme... he barely recognized her when he walked in. Her braid was gone, which was something rare on its own already. Her hair was short. Really short, the length you would get when you cut off your braid impulsively, which, knowing Esme, was probably what happened. Her clothes were the same style, same yellow color, as he was used to, but something was added. A pair of fingerless gloves, which seems to mismatch the rest of her style. But other than that, her whole vibe was different. Like that restless energy around Esme he always felt and once was addicted to calmed down.  
When Miles walked into the hospital room, he did not expect to find this picture: Esme laid next to Frankie, caressing her hair. Both of them so soft talking in their own little universe. It looked sweet, loving, peaceful, for a second he forgot everything he knew about who Esme was and appreciated the pureness of the scenario.  
Then it hit him how weird this was, not Frankie and Esme cuddling, but Esme in a hospital. Esme in the hospital looking peaceful. He had only witnessed Esme voluntarily visiting a hospital twice. Both times she was or ended up a mess. The first time visiting Zig after the bus crash. He saw her shortly, leaving Zig’s hospital room, crying and shaky. He knew it wasn’t only because of seeing someone she liked in a lot in pain. When Zig got released from the hospital, he knew Esme was there to pick him up, but she was waiting in the parking lot to avoid going inside. The second time was after Maya tried to kill herself. He wished he could erase Esme sobbing from his memory, how personally she took the whole thing.  
When he and Esme were together, the only thing they cared about was avoiding reality. Words about all the shit that went down in their lives was forbidden territory. It was little crumbles Esme gave him instead of the whole story, and not until that night did he put them together. Esme had told him how her mom left her at the age of ten, how her dad wasn’t very nice to her, how she hated hospitals and couldn’t spend any time in them without having a panic attack. She hinted that there was a time in her life where she spent too much time at a hospital, he saw how she always flicked away with stuff about comas. But the biggest clue he missed was how casual she was about death. She made gross jokes about death and mortality all the time. He assumed she was just an asshole, which was an undeniable truth, but an asshole with a layers. A part of him regretted not talking to her that night, maybe renewing contact would have made everything that went down in the last few months of last year happen differently. But, despite all the hate and fear for the hospital here she was, relaxed, all for Frankie.  
For a second, it seemed like a romantic moment Miles was interrupting, but that couldn’t… Frankie would tell him if she liked girls too. He knew Esme was into girls, well he sort of knew. When she admitted she liked girls to him, it was a reaction to him talking about his bisexuality. He thought it was one of those things she lied about to make him feel safer and like she truly was the only one who would get him. That she tried too hard to be relatable for it to be the truth, that she projected onto him. But maybe Esme didn’t always lie, as, after all, he felt uncomfortable and creepy staring like them for this long.

‘Knock knock.’

‘Miles!’ both girls screamed out with two very different set of emotions. Frankie was dull and tired but overall sounded happy to see Miles. Esme was straight up upset and maybe even a bit terrified. She got herself of the bed, as careful as she could without hurting Frankie.

‘I brought you flowers, do you have a vase here anywhere?’

Frankie began to raise herself so she could sit up straight, but she couldn’t do it without groaning because of the pain. The second Frankie made a sound, Miles set his flowers down and ran to her side to help her, with Esme doing the same.

‘It’s fine you guys, I can do this,’ reacted Frankie as the two grabbed her to pull her in the right position. The two slowly stepped back to watch Frankie sit up herself. The Esme that appeared next to the bed looked like the Esme Miles had expected to find in a hospital. Esme hugged herself, arms wrapped around her, eyes that couldn’t stay staring at one spot.

‘Hey Miles… Didn’t expect to see you here...’

‘You really think I wouldn’t come home after my own sister got shot? I know you are not familiar with the concept, but that’s what you do when you care for people instead of using them,’ Miles answered. Right after Miles said it he knew this wasn’t the right move to make. He saw Esme’s face go from shy and uncomfortable into fight mode in a matter of seconds.

‘Well, I heard your life in London kept you quite busy, so busy you could barely bother to check your phone. Frankie complained many, many times to me how she barely heard anything from you despite her efforts. So, to be honest, I thought you had left us all behind. That’s what you do, isn’t it? When you get something better, you leave the old thing behind like trash.”  
Esme’s words came out fast, but her message was still clear. Miles thought back on how they ended, what he did to Lola and his earlier relationships and he knew Esme had a point. She always had this gift for pointing out insecurities and truths people would rather not admit to themselves. People, including himself, would shrug it off because it was Esme saying them and she was crazy and always manipulated people, right?

‘I’m not sure what Frankie told you,’ he said calmly, not letting her know her words had gotten to him, ‘but that’s not what happened. The point is: I’m here now, that’s all what matters. I should be asking you what you are doing here.’

‘Yeah, yeah, you are here now. It only took Frankie to be shot before you showed up here. Frankie is my friend, I’ve been here all the time. I’m the person who talks to her every day instead of when it’s convenient for me.’

‘What do you want? For me to apologize for having a life? Unlike you, who’s still stuck at Degrassi. How does it feel to be repeating a grade?’

‘GUYS! Stop! No fighting, please!’ said Frankie. Miles and Esme turned to her like they had forgotten she was still in the room.

‘I was about to leave anyways,’ Esme said, fire in her eyes, picking her bag off the ground without breaking eye contact with Miles, ‘hope you are feeling better Frankie, see you tomorrow.’

‘Wait… Can you do something before you leave? Can you get a vase for Miles’ flowers? They are beautiful and I don’t want them to die.’

‘Of course, Frankie, anything for you. Nice to see you, Miles,’ Esme said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She grabbed the flowers from the table and walked out of the room.

‘What was that about Miles? “Something you are not familiar with”, that’s just plain rude.’  
‘Sorry, Esme just gets on my nerves and you know that. Being in the same room with her brings out the worst in me.’

‘Well, then get over yourself.’

‘Why are you still friends with her anyways? I thought you had learned your lesson.’

‘I didn’t drop you when you were acting out because of dad, which happened more than once. I didn’t drop Hunter, either. Esme is ill, too, and deserves a second chance.’

‘That’s different. We’re family. Esme is not family, she almost destroyed me and dragged you into a threesome. My original point still stands.’

‘I don’t see it as different. Did you know Esme has borderline personality disorder? Did you know how many times she has been misdiagnosed? Did you know her dad pressured the doctors into prescribing unnecessary medication? Did you know the only reason she is still at Degrassi is because instead of summer school she spent the entire vacation working on herself? Did you know she wrote letters to apologize to me and Zig and Maya and even you?’

‘Esme wrote me a letter? Well, I never got it.’

‘Yes, she did. She just didn’t know your address in London so she sent it to our house instead. But mom knew Esme was a trigger for you and didn’t want to ruin London so she didn’t send it.’

‘You know what, doesn’t matter. I didn’t come here to argue about Esme with you. How are you doing?’

‘Pain. Getting shot always seems less painful on television, like a minor inconvenience. Dude, television is a liar. I have never been more thankful for sedatives and hospitals. Everything hurts. EVERYTHING.’  
With a finger, she clicked on a button and she relaxed.

‘What did they put you on?’ Miles asked, concerned.

‘Don’t know. Don’t care.’

The Hollingsworth family and drugs should never go together, he learned that the hard way. He didn’t want Frankie to suffer, but this could be a dangerous road to go down. He should talk with his mom about it before he went to London again, one Hollingsworth drug addict was more than enough.

‘Do you remember what happened?’

‘It’s fuzzy. I remember small parts, like flashbacks of it. I remember sitting in the bathrooms washing my hands when an alarm went off. I remember not taking this seriously because ... you know... Degrassi. This isn't the first lockdown. I remember yelling and hearing shots while walking into hallway. I remember walking into…’  
At that part Frankie stopped, leaving Miles unsure if she didn’t remember or if she didn’t want to tell him.  
‘Someone, but I’m not sure who anymore. I remember seeing Damian, the anger in his eyes but no gun. He wanted to talk to me. I remember yelling at him to leave me alone and then pain and then more yelling.’

‘Wait… Damian? Wasn’t he the shooter? You knew the guy?’

Frankie laughed without any joy and shook her head.

‘Want to hear something funny?’ when she stopped laughing, ‘I almost lost my virginity to him.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘He was Hunter’s friend. He liked me, kept flirting with me even though I rejected him like fifty times. Convinced me into saying yes after a big romantic gesture in front of a group. Should have been a red flag. But… I don’t know. The first date went well and so did the second and the third. He was so nice to me and showered me with compliments and attention. He was needy and obsessive but it was nice being loved again and not feeling like the crazy one in a relationship. Only he turned out to be a creep. Lola was right. I make the worst romantic choices.’

‘Why was he a creep?’

‘He was a stalker. Ran this blog ranking the girls of Degrassi based on hotness, featuring really creepy photos. Taken on the street, really zoomed in on butts and boobs.’

‘That’s... a lot of information. He was Hunter’s friend, too…’

‘Besties. Hunter was the only one who didn’t turn on him after the photo scandal. Where is Hunter? He hasn’t showed up here yet. Is he hurt, too? Nobody is telling me anything to fill up the holes in my memory. I know I should wait until I’m better and I’m too weak now and blah, blah, blah but it’s driving me insane!’

‘Hunter is… processing everything that happened. And trust me, you aren’t the only one who is annoyed not knowing everything. How come this is the first time I heard of this? This is huge… all of it.’

‘You had your life in London, it wasn’t your business. I mean we could only talk at midnight and all time you seemed too tired, I didn’t want to burden you. And it’s not like our texts ever consisted of more than three syllables. Yes. No. Okay. Good for you. Sucks.’

‘That was never my intention.’

‘I know. I’m just happy you’re here now. I… I missed you.’

‘I missed you too. You didn’t set your room on fire while I was gone, did you?’

‘Oh please, that happened once. I’m honestly more surprised you didn’t blow up your apartment or your new school. Didn’t you get expelled for setting the school on fire?’

‘Okay that only happened…’ Miles stopped halfway through.

‘It happened twice.’

‘Yeah, I realized my mistake the moment I said it… Especially since it did almost happen again…’

‘Wait… are you saying…’

‘Never let me cook… or be near fire in general. Laura and the fire extinguisher saved me. I was totally covered in the foam; didn’t I send you a photo?’

‘No, you didn’t! Please tell me you have it saved!’

Miles grabbed his phone and scrolled through his photos till he found the photos. Frankie’s laughing almost made it worth relieving the humiliation of that memory. Between her giggles Frankie said she shouldn’t be laughing because it hurt, but that didn’t stop her. One of the photos was screenshot from oomfchat, a selfie with Laura on the foreground with the caption ‘biggest idiot in London and his heroine’.

At exactly that moment someone walked in, but it wasn’t who either Frankie or Miles expected. It was Shay, carrying Miles’ flowers in a vase. Miles could honestly say he wasn’t sure if she looked older or different than when last saw her, but she definitely looked more tired.

‘Oh, hey Miles. Am I interrupting something? I’m only here for the flowers. Where can I put them down?’ she said, awkwardly standing in the door.

‘Hey Shay, and no, no, it’s fine. Just a silly photo. And give them to me, I’ll find a space for them,’ answered Miles as he jumped up and walked her way.

Shay nodded and handed him the vase.

‘Hey Franks, you doing better?’ she said softly. Now she was the one sitting beside Frankie.

‘I think considering everything what happened I’m pretty fine. But what are you doing here? I thought you went home already? And where is Esme?’ Frankie said.

‘Oh, I was going home, but then I bumped into Esme. She seemed uncomfortable and like she to get out and I hadn’t visited you today yet so I offered my help,’ Shay said and she held Frankie’s hand. Apparently almost dying makes everyone soft, Miles noticed. It still warmed his heart to see that his sister was loved so much.

‘Okay, I got it,’ Frankie said, ‘but still, you don’t have to stay for me. Go home, I know you have been here too much. How’s Lola doing?’  
When Lola’s name dropped, Miles turned around and felt his heart skip a beat. It almost caused him to drop the vase, but he could recover himself in time. He prayed he had misunderstood, but he had to ask.

‘Lola… wait, is something wrong with Lola?’

‘Yeah… she got shot, too. In her leg, once. You didn’t know?’ Shay asked.

At that moment Miles felt like the worst person in the universe. He loved Lola once, he truly did. True, they didn’t talk that much anymore, but… he didn’t have an excuse. Esme’s words came back into his mind, but he put them aside. Then he realized Lola was in pain and that he made that pain about himself and felt even worse. He knew two girls got shot and one guy, but the other girl completely slipped his mind. He knew the guy was Baaz Nahir from Winston who got the information from his girlfriend Goldi. They called while he was stranded in the airport. Winston said he considered coming home too, but he and Baaz where never close and honestly Frankie’s hospital room was crowded enough; so, he concluded a card would be more than enough.

‘No... I didn’t! Nobody told me… Can I visit her?’ he said, trying to hide his guilt.

‘If you want to go now, you can’t. Lola is asleep. And you do have to get past Saad, he’s sort of protective over her.’

‘Right, okay.’

He checked his phone to hide how uncomfortable he was with the whole… not-knowing-Lola-was-hurt-after-he-loved-her-and-got-her-pregnant-and-than-stopping-keeping-up-with-her situation. It surprised him how late it was, his mom had texted him to remind him of what he promised to do.

‘Frankie, will you be fine on your own? I told mom I would take Hunter to his therapy session and I have to leave to be on time.’

‘I’ll be fine, I want to some privacy with Shay anyways.’

Miles gave Frankie one last kiss on her forehead and said goodbye to Shay. In his head, he made a note to buy flowers for Lola while Hunter was having therapy, he owned her that much.


End file.
